


oh, how simple life could (n)ever be

by postmoderne



Series: oh, it's a wonderful life [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry used to be a baker, M/M, a lot of weird feelings, smutty parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postmoderne/pseuds/postmoderne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh.”, Harry wonders. “Why didn’t you stop working there when you found out you weren’t getting paid?”<br/>“Mainly”, Niall replies with a faint blush on his cheeks, “because of Zayn.”<br/>“Because of my beauty.”, Zayn teases the blond, whose pout reappears, which makes Harry think that that’s probably really the actual reason Niall stayed. He can’t blame the lad for it. </p><p>-<br/>Or: Zarriall begin some sort of relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh, how simple life could (n)ever be

-  
Harry looks at the cerulean marble in his hand and rolls it between his thumb and index finger. It's a pretty little thing, he thinks, he had always liked the colour of the sky.  
He knows, of course, that the sky doesn't actually have a colour. Just like water doesn't. It all comes from the big wide space above them. Then, he guesses, he likes the colour of the universe. The marble in the palm of his hand glistens in the sunlight of a surprisingly mild Sunday in October. He closes his eyes and enjoys the sun shining onto his face for a moment, before he lets out a tiny sigh - sometimes he doesn't want to walk the same way to work every day, sometimes he just wants to walk into the opposite direction, away from everything he knows. Sometimes, he thinks, he wishes for an adventure that will change his whole life forever. 

\- 

"Sorry, madam, we're out of--", Harry tries to politely explain the elderly lady in front of the counter, that "--no, we really don't-- there's, we're out of cream horns, I'm sorry--", but the elderly lady doesn't want to understand, as it seems.  
"I'm always getting seven cream horns here! Every Sunday! This is scandalous, where is your manager?", she shrieks in her elderly lady voice, which is starting to annoy Harry even more and he is already incredibly annoyed with this person. He's usually patient and very kind, but this woman is definitely testing his nerves. "I want to talk to your manager!"  
"Listen, madam, I am very sorry, but the manager isn't available right now. Neither are your cream horns, as I already told you for the twentieth time. You need to get them somewhere else, we don't have any more bloody cream horns, okay?", Harry says it as calmly as he's able to manage. "We do have doughnuts and rhubarb tarts and--"  
"I don't want to have any rhubarb tarts! I want cream horns!", the lady apparently isn't going to stop with her cream horns anytime soon. Harry's sure his face is beet red from suppressed anger. "Like every Sunday!"

"Hey, lady!", a male sounding voice intervenes in the cream horn conflict, taking both the elderly woman and Harry by surprise. "The guy's just trying to do this job, don't be a dick to him. That's unnecessary and rude as hell, god."  
The lad standing behind the woman is blond and has his arms crossed. "When he says he's out of cream horns, then he's out of cream horns. A fact you need to learn to accept and now, get your whiny arse out of his bakery."  
The woman turns around quicker than one would expect and the look on her face is the one of pure and utter fury.  
"How dare you, you unmannered brat!", she shouts angrily. "This is not how you talk to an elderly person! Have some decency and respect!"

The blond snorts, obviously amused. "You're one to talk about decency and respect, lady. What are you? A hundred-and-five? And you still didn't learn about manners and appropriate public behaviour?", he clicks with his tongue, "That figures."  
Harry is speechless and absolutely stunned by this boy, who can't be much older than himself and - to crown it all - he thinks he just fell in love with this complete stranger. He has the tendency to fall in love with strangers quite often, anyway.  
The lady is furious; Harry imagines steam coming out of her ears. "Scandalous!", she cries out. "Scandalous, the youth these days!", she shouts again, swinging her fist in the air, all while rushing out of the pastry shop.  
Left behind are Harry and the blond. 

"Uhm", Harry starts dumbly, "thank you very much?"  
The boy laughs and shakes his head. "It's alright, no problem. I know how it is, dealing with customers of that kind.", he points with his thumb over his shoulder, "It can be, well, very fucking annoying."  
Harry finds himself nodding along to the stranger's words. The bloke is nice on the eyes, to say the least, has a pretty smile and a cute nose and crinkly eyes and he's short, probably like ten centimetres shorter than Harry. “Yeah”, Harry breathes. “Yeah, so… can I get you anything?”  
The blond hums and looks at the pastries behind the glass of the counter and while he looks, Harry can’t help but stare at the guy, who’s clad in black trousers and an olive-green coat. The blond of his hair is probably out of the bottle, Harry thinks, the dark roots are showing, and his face is roundish, but not really, maybe it’s his rosy cheeks, which make him look like a little cherub. 

“I think I’m going to take the, uh, the things with chocolate here.”, Harry’s short time crush says and nods towards the éclairs and smiles up at the curly-haired lad.  
“Sure, how many?”, Harry asks and the blond hums again, seeming conflicted.  
“Maybe like two?”, he says and shrugs.  
“Alright.”, Harry picks up three of the chocolate éclairs and puts them into a bag. “One’s on the house, you know, for saving me from that… termagant.”  
“Termagant.”, the stranger repeats after Harry. “Nice word.”, he chuckles and takes the bag, giving Harry the money in return. His eyes twinkle like the sky.  
“See you!”, the bloke smiles and waves goodbye. Shortly after that, he’s out of the shop and perhaps gone forever. That’s okay, Harry sighs and lets the coins in his hand glide into the till. This is just another petty crush and another petty heartbreak; he has those all the time. His mother always tells him, that he gives his heart away too quickly and too soon and way, way, way too often. 

He’s never seen that as a bad trait about himself, though. He bites his lip, faces the next customer and hopes to see the pretty, blond stranger again sometime. 

\- 

October just seems to become colder and colder as time passes by and Harry is not known for the best circulation, which means: he gets cold rather easily and it’s something he needs to work on. He also shouldn’t keep forgetting to put gloves on. “Damn it.”, he mutters into the chilly air and tightens his scarf around his neck. “It’s not even November.”, but it might as well be. At least today’s his free day, which lifts his mood slightly. While slowly shuffling down the busy streets of London, he observes the passers-by in all their forms and sizes and styles. Harry enjoys this observation, he likes imagining what other people’s lives are like, how they live. 

The woman in pink with her child, who just starts crying. Maybe the child is going to marry Prince George one day or maybe the child is going to become a famous singer. Maybe the woman has a tragic backstory, maybe there’s a reason behind all that pink, besides it being a nice colour.  
He wonders who the guy is talking to on the phone, is it his girlfriend, his father? His younger sister? Harry stares at that guy for a little too long, earning a confused glance and a frown from him. He looks away, down at his feet.  
He buries his hands deeper down in his coat and moves on, passing by women and men and children and anything in-between. It’s nice, Harry thinks, anonymous in such a big city. Nobody knows you, but they’re all here for something. He knows he’s an optimist, yet that’s just how he is, he guesses. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket.  
“Yeah, Harry Styles here?”, he answers it after fumbling it out of said pocket. 

“Harry, so.”, it’s his friend Nick. “You don’t happen do need a flatmate or anything, right?”  
“Uh, actually—“, Harry begins, but Nick doesn’t let him finish. 

“Because I know this bloke who happens to need a flat.”, Nick continues. “And you happen to own a flat all by yourself!”

“Nick, I don’t know—“, and yet again does Nick interrupt him. 

“It probably won’t be forever, he’s only staying here in London for a couple of months.”, he says, almost pleadingly. “And he told me he’d pay for the stay. Would you be a gent, Harry?”

“Well, I’d need to meet the guy first, you know?”

“You’re the best, Harry! Thank you!”, Nick cheers. “We’ll come over in an hour!”

“But I’m not, wait, what’s the guy’s name—Nick?!”, but Nick already hung up. Harry sighs exasperatedly. He also wonders why everything Nick says sounds lightly sarcastic. 

\- 

After arriving in his flat, he huffs and throws his coat onto a chair in the tiny kitchen. Then he starts making tea for Nick and his friend, who will soon be there and Harry is a good host, honestly. He’s always got some pastries or cakes at home, too, a benefit of working at a bakery.  
He wonders if Nick’s friend likes Earl Grey. 

While he waits, he decides to wash some of the left over dishes in his sink and he cleans his living room a little. He’s not a messy person, he doesn’t think he is, but better be safe than sorry.  
When there’s a knock on his door, he’s ready and fully prepared. The table is all set, filled Croissants and pretzels and Earl Grey are sitting on it, waiting to be devoured. 

Harry gets up from the kitchen chair and walks to the door, opening to what turns out to be a big surprise. There’s Nick, of course, outside of the door, but also a blond boy with a bright smile. It’s the same guy from the bakery, the one who saved him from the cream horn conflict. 

“Oh my!”, Harry gasps, eyes widening. Nick lifts an eyebrow and the blond giggles. “Come in!”  
And they come in, Nick apparently very confused while the blond just laughs the whole way to the kitchen. 

“That’s, frankly, never happened to me before.”, he laughs as they sit down. “What’s this, fate?”  
“Fate?”, Nick wonders and eyes both Harry and the blond, who is yet to be named.  
“We met already. In the bakery.”, Harry explains helpfully and nods towards the blond, whose eyes are crinkled and it’s sort of cute. 

“Really?!”, Nick shouts, astounded. “Impressive. So, no awkward introductions needed?”  
“Nah, it’s needed. I’m Niall.”, the blond – finally, Niall – says with a smirk playing on his lips. “Niall Horan from Mullingar, Ireland. Nice to meet you.”  
“Harry. Harry Styles from, uh, Holmes Chapel, England.”, Harry tells him, then glaring at Nick. “You really didn’t tell him my name? Nothing?”  
“I’m a wild one, you know me, Haz.”, Nick shrugs innocently and even winks at him. “Spontaneous.”  
“Very.”, Harry grunts and motions then to the food and tea. “Help yourself, yeah?”

“Aye!”, Niall licks his lips and grabs a pretzel. Harry finds Niall’s lips to be rather distracting. 

“Well, Nialler here needs somewhere to stay for a couple of months. He stayed at mine for a while, but I don’t exactly have much space left, since I’m moving out and—“

“He can stay here.”, Harry says. 

“What?”, both Niall and Nick stare at Harry as if he’s lost his mind completely. 

“Yeah, he’s— you look like a nice guy. I like company. It gets lonely here, sometimes.”, Harry blushes and doesn’t dare to look Niall into his blue, blue eyes. 

“And I thought I’m the spontaneous one?”, Nick shakes his head, not believing a word Harry said. 

“Hey…”, Harry raises his hands defensively. “As long as he pays rent and keeps the flat clean—“

“I will! Fuck, Harry—“, Niall breathes, half a piece of pretzel sticking out of his mouth and oh, where’s Harry looking at now? “I’m definitely going to, oh shit, that’s great, that’s amazing! Thank you so much, Harry!”

Harry smiles timidly. “You’re welcome. Why are you staying here in London, anyway?”

“I’ve always wanted to visit the capital.”, Niall admits. 

“Dublin?”

“Dublin, what?”

“Isn’t that the capital of, uh, well, Ireland?”

“I don—didn’t you just ask me why I was staying in London? The capital of England?”, Niall looks wary. 

“Oh, right. Yes. Sorry.”, Harry may as well be the world’s slowest thinker. Niall chuckles. 

Nick eats a Croissant. 

“I’m glad we’ve got that covered, now.”, he says with a full mouth. “Get your luggage out of my car, then, Niall.”

\- 

At night, just when Harry is about to fall asleep, the door of his bedroom opens and a blond head pokes in. “Harry?”, Niall whispers. 

“Huh?”

“Thank you for letting me stay here. I’m really, really grateful.”

Harry laughs. “Of course, you’re welcome.”

“The chocolate things I bought in your bakery were very good, by the way.”

“Thanks, Niall. I’ll let Barbara know.”

“Yeah. Your boss? Yeah, okay. Good night, then.”

“Good night, Niall. Sleep well.”, Harry replies. Something warm bubbles in his stomach at the thought of Niall sleeping in the same house as him.

“Thank you, you too.”, Niall says and clicks the door shut again. 

\- 

The first few days of having Niall around were an absolutely new experience for Harry. He’s never shared his flat; he’s only ever shared a living space with his family before.  
Niall isn’t a very calm person, Harry finds out, he’s loud and unruly, but at least he’s neat. 

Niall also seems to make friends easily, even though Harry’s not sure when and where he makes them, but already a week after Niall moved in, there are two guys sitting at the kitchen table when Harry comes home from work.  
They look at him, he looks at them. “H-Hello?” 

“Hi.”, one says. The other says: “Hey.”, and it’s uncomfortable for all of them.  
“Are you… are you burglars?”, Harry asks cautiously and doesn’t move from the spot where he’s standing.  
The jaw of one of the guys drops. The other one starts laughing uncontrollably. Apparently Harry’s missing out on a joke there. He frowns.  
“I don’t understand what’s so funny?”

“You’re funny! We’re not burglars, Jesus.”, the smaller one of them laughs. Harry thinks that’s pretty rude of him, he doesn’t like to get laughed at.  
“We’re friends of Niall. Your roommate, I suppose?”, the other one says with an apologetic smile.  
“Yeah. I’m his roommate.”, Harry nods, eyes shifting from one guy to the other. “Where’s… Niall?”

They’re very attractive; Harry has to admit so much. The smaller one has fluffy brown hair and cheekily sparkling stormy blue eyes, and the other bloke seems to have no flaw in his appearance. Lean, with dark hair and honey melting eyes and Christ, that jawline and the stubble—holy shit, Harry thinks, he’s the perfect human being. 

“He’s in the bathroom, he might have…”, the perfect human shrugs, “…gotten food all over his clothes.”. Harry blinks.  
“I see…”, he drawls, lamely. “What can I get you, uhm, I mean…”  
“Nothing, we’re fine. You’re Harry, right?”, Adonis asks gently. Harry already loves his voice.  
“Yes, I’m Harry. Uh, who are you?”

“I’m Zayn, that’s Louis. We’re volunteers at the soup kitchen together with Niall.”, Zayn, god, he’s dreamy, says and points first to himself, then to Louis, who gives Harry a half smile.  
“That’s nice of you.”, Harry is positively surprised by this. He hadn’t known that Niall volunteered for the soup kitchen. “I did that a yearlong after I graduated.”  
“Sweet Mother!”, Niall exclaims and stumbles into the kitchen in only his striped boxers and a towel slung over his shoulder. “That porridge went everywhere, I’m telling you!”

“It was your own fault, Niall, sometimes you should just keep that saucy mouth of yours shut, maybe then people won’t get offended and throw food at you anymore.”, Zayn grins at him whimsically, which makes Louis laugh and Niall groan.  
“He’s had it coming! He was rude to Joanne, come on!”, he whines. “I’m only fighting for justice.”  
“Unfortunately you’re not Batman and only an Irish boy with a mouth too big to fit his face.”, Louis says while trying to suppress his giggles.  
“Says you, Louis! Honest to god, you’re worse than I am!”, Niall pouts and flops down onto a chair. “Oh, and hi, Harry!”

“Hi Niall.”, Harry is pretty much in a daze from so much naked pale skin sitting right there in his field of view. “You… You work in a soup kitchen?”  
Niall lifts his eyebrows. “Yes, I do.”, he says. “Not getting any money for it, though.”  
“Niall, really?”, Zayn rolls his eyes. “You like working there. It’s not about the money.”  
Niall sighs. “I know, I know. It’s for the smiles I receive. But the day I started there, I honestly thought I’d get paid. You see, I’m new here, still, and I just thought, hey, that’s a chance!”

“Oh.”, Harry wonders. “Why didn’t you stop working there when you found out you weren’t getting paid?”  
“Mainly”, Niall replies with a faint blush on his cheeks, “because of Zayn.”  
“Because of my beauty.”, Zayn teases the blond, whose pout reappears, which makes Harry think, that that’s probably really the actual reason Niall stayed. He can’t blame the lad for it. 

Here he sits in his tiny kitchen with two strangers and his crush, and nothing is wrong with it, nothing is weird. It’s as if they’re friends already. Harry quite likes the idea. 

-

It’s not until two weeks later, when Harry comes home later in the evening from his shift at the bakery, that he catches Niall in the act of humping Zayn’s hip. On the couch in the living room.  
“Holy crap!”, he shouts and turns around as quickly as he can. Behind him, he hears muttering and cursing and rustling. Belts are being buckled; trousers are being pulled up again.  
“I’m sorry, Harry, I’m so sorry!”, Niall tells him. “We should’ve gone to the bedroom, I’m sorry!”  
Something inside of Harry’s chest hurts a little, but he turns around to face the two – what, lovers? – anyway, saying: “It’s okay, next time, though—“  
“Course, of course!”, Niall reassures him, standing up to pat Harry’s shoulder and Zayn gives him a mightily flushed thumbs up, eying Harry up and down. 

“But shit, Harry, do you have a boner from..?”, Zayn whispers and stares at Harry’s way too tight jeans. Harry gulps and crosses his legs, shaking his head.  
“I—I… I don’t—“, he stutters and tries to leave, but there are hands on his wrists, keeping him back. Harry sucks in a breath as he looks into Niall’s eyes, his wonderful blue eyes. “N-Niall, I—“, he says hoarsely, completely overwhelmed with the situation as Niall presses his body closer to Harry’s, nudging one leg in between Harry’s crossed ones.  
“Do you want to join us?”, he whispers into Harry’s ear. Harry feels himself getting hotter and hotter, he’s afraid he’ll faint. Shit, shitshitshit, he thinks, shit, shit, shit, yes, shit, shit.  
“L-Listen, I’m—“, Harry tries, but he can’t.  
“It’s just friends with benefits, you know. And, fuck, you’re hot. Isn’t he, Zayn?”, Niall says without turning around and somehow Niall’s hands find a way to sneak underneath Harry’s shirt. 

Zayn chuckles lightly, palming himself through his trousers. “Hell yes. I’d be up for a threesome.”  
Harry’s eyes widen to the size of plates as he stares over Niall’s shoulder at the dark-haired bloke.  
“Fuck, you’re serious, aren’t you?”, he chokes out. Niall bites down on his neck, laughing gently.  
When he starts sucking, Harry can’t help but let out a languid moan. “You are, fuck, that’s—insane.”  
Niall laughs again, a little louder this time and walks Harry back to the couch, where they clumsily fall on top of Zayn. 

“I don’t think the couch is big enough for this kind of activity”, Zayn hums and wraps his arms around Niall’s lithe torso and pulls him up, making Harry tumble onto the floor. “Oh, sorry, Harry! C’mon! Get up, we’re going to bed.”, he winks at the poor curly-haired sod as he carries Niall bridal-style. The blond giggles, amused, and he stretches out a hand towards Harry. “Come, Harry, let’s have some fun!”

Harry stands up and follows the merry couple to Niall’s bedroom. He’s not drunk enough for this, he thinks, but then again he isn’t drunk at all. He shakes his head, this is the craziest thing he’s ever done. In the bedroom, Zayn has already dropped Niall onto his bed and is about to rip the clothes off of Niall. Harry, too, is longing to get his fingers onto Niall’s skin, so he throws all doubts and basically his whole conscience aside and joins the two maniacs on the bed, unbuckling Niall’s belt. 

“Ayo, why am I the only one getting undressed?”, Niall struggles and swats their hands away, instead gripping Zayn’s collar to drag the shirt over his head. “There, there!”  
Harry smiles and pulls his own shirt off, which leaves the blond staring. “Fuck, Harry, you’re fit!”  
He makes grabby fingers, so Harry leans down and kisses him, momentarily afraid of rejection, but Niall just kisses him back, licking over Harry’s lips with his tongue. Harry groans.  
Suddenly, his trousers are being pulled down and then there’s a mouth—“Fuck!”, he curses into Niall’s neck, bucking his hips.  
“You really are fit, Harry.”, Zayn breathes, parting Harry’s bum cheeks with his thumbs and Harry’s lost.

\- 

This is how Harry ends up in some kind of relationship with two guys at a time. At first, it isn’t as awkward as Harry would’ve expected, but it still is different from anything he’s ever done before. No hard feelings, though, he has to tell himself, just friends with benefits. He sighs into the muffins. 

“Uhm, are you..?”, a woman with red hair clears her throat. Oh right, he’s working at the moment.  
“Yes, sorry, right. What can I get you?”, he asks with a put-on smile. 

“Do you have any, uh, anything with jam or marmalade?”

“Yes, here are some jam rolls?”, he suggests and the woman nods. 

“Yeah, I’ll take some of these. For four persons, please.”, she says and Harry does as he’s told.  
“And also three pieces of this apple tart.” 

“Of course.”, Harry packs them into a bag. “Anything else?”

“No”, she shakes her head, “that’s it, thank you.”, she pays and leaves the bakery. Harry cleans the counter. This is normal, this is usual. A threesome-friends-with-benefits relationship isn’t. He draws his marble out of the pocket and looks at it. It’s the colour of Niall’s eyes. Shit, he thinks, bloody bullshit. 

He knows this won’t take a good end, he’s slowly but surely falling in love with Niall, he knows it. He knows he isn’t made for friends with benefits. He knows he doesn’t want to share Niall with anyone, not even Zayn. But right now he has to stop thinking about his personal life and concentrate on work. 

“Hey Harry.”, his next customer is none other than Zayn himself. “How’s it going? Niall told me you work here.”  
“Yes, uh”, Harry smiles awkwardly at his, well, whatever, “I work here, in a bakery.”  
“I can see that.”, Zayn smiles back. “When are you off? I need to talk to you.”  
“In an hour or so”, Harry glances onto his watch, “You can wait here if you want.”  
“Sure.”, Zayn accepts and buys one of the coffees to go and sits on one of the two bar chairs in the corner of the bakery. Harry prays, that this conversation they’re about to have isn’t going to be weird and uncomfortable. But it is, he thinks, it will be so weird. 

When he’s finished and his colleague Barbara is taking over, he prepares himself inwardly, trying to stabilise his emotions for whatever it is Zayn wants to talk about.  
“You really stayed here for the whole hour!”, he laughs awkwardly at the good-looking guy, who hops down from the chair and shrugs his jacket back on.  
“Yeah, didn’t really have to do anything else.”, Zayn says and turns towards the door. “Let’s go for a walk, alright?”  
Harry nods. “Alright.”, he says and gets his own coat and scarf, putting the clothes on. “Let’s go.”

They don’t walk hand in hand, and honestly, Harry didn’t know what he expected. They’re not a couple, they just are—they are. Something.  
“Okay, so.”, Zayn starts after clearing his throat a few times. It’s rather cold outside. “I wanted to talk to you about our… thing.”  
“Our something.”, Harry says.  
“Something, yeah.”, Zayn says. 

Harry hears the dust beneath his shoes crunch as he takes one step after another.  
“I’m just going to say it: I thought Niall and I would, you know. I didn’t think this threesome thing would, uhm…”, Zayn squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment, “I thought that was a One-Night-Stand kind of thing. But apparently… not. Niall is really—“

Harry thinks he understands. “You thought you and Niall would be, like, an item? And I was just… for having some fun?”  
The red on Zayn’s cheeks looks pretty. “Yes, sorry.”, he sighs. “Fuck.”  
“Yes, fuck.”, Harry agrees.  
“I’m also so jealous, like, what do I know what you and Niall do in your flat? I don’t. I don’t know what you do. It’s just… a little frustrating.”, Zayn admits then, shoving his hands in his hair. “This whole thing we have, it’s just, I don’t do this. That’s not me, you see? How long…? A couple of weeks?”

Harry stares down. “Three?”  
“Three weeks of complete madness. I like you, Harry, I do.”, Zayn tells him. “You’ve got the looks, really, you’re nice and kind as far as I can tell.”  
“I gave Niall a blowjob this morning, I’m sorry.”, Harry says, eyes still on the ground. “He looked so—he looked so irresistible this morning, I wanted—“  
“No, it’s alright. You don’t have to apologise. Shit.”, Zayn rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I went to a bar a few days ago. With Niall. I shagged him in the bathroom.” 

Harry gulps. “Are we… are we sharing him? Because you and I haven’t… since the threesome—“  
“Fuck, I don’t know what we’re doing, Harry!”, Zayn grunts and stops, grabbing Harry by his shoulders and shaking him. “But I’m not sure this is healthy!”  
They’re close, nose to nose. “It probably isn’t.”, Harry exhales and locks his lips with Zayn’s. 

The marble in his pocket burns hot against his leg. 

\- 

“Cause I can’t make you love me, if you don’t. You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t.”, Harry gently sings along with Bonnie Raitt. “Here in the dark, in these final hours, I will lay down my heart and I’ll feel the power.”  
He’s not exactly upset, but he isn’t happy either. “But you won’t, no, you won’t.”, he sings as he pours milk into a bowl. “Cause I can’t make you love me… if you don’t.” 

“Harry?”, Niall calls out, “…is everything all right? That’s quite some sad music you’re playing there.”  
The blond enters the kitchen and looks at the radio.  
“Harry?”  
“Hm?”  
“Are you sad?”, Niall asks, almost shyly.  
Harry chuckles lightly. “Just a little weltschmerz, I guess. Don’t worry.”  
Niall hums, but doesn’t seem convinced. “What causes your world weariness?”  
Harry shrugs and stirs the pancake batter he just made. “It happens just like that, sometimes.”  
Niall hums again. 

“Would a kiss help?”

Harry nearly knocks down the bowl. “A kiss?”, he ponders. Just one kiss, Harry thinks, ignoring Zayn’s tiny voice in his head, telling him that this isn’t healthy. “Yes… yes, I think it’d help a lot.”  
And so Niall kisses him, gingerly, brushes his lips to Harry’s. It’s sweet and stays innocent. It’s filled with longing, heavy tenderness and, somehow, untouchability.  
“Niall”, Harry breathes against Niall’s lips as they part, “what is this, what do we have?”  
“A chick flick moment, I guess.”, Niall smiles and nudges his nose against Harry’s. He’s not taking this seriously enough. 

“No, Niall. Please. Are we in a three-way relationship, with Zayn? Friends with benefits? Fuck buddies? What are we, Niall, please tell me, I’m so confused.”  
Niall looks deeply into Harry’s eyes, as if trying to have a glance into the curly-haired bloke’s soul. 

“What do you want us to be?”

“It doesn’t work like this.”, Harry bites his lip. Niall’s glance doesn’t falter. 

“How long do we know each other now? A month?”, he asks. 

“I think around a month, yeah. Maybe more. When did you move here?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s only been a month so far. I’ll be gone in three more. It’s now up to you and Zayn… how you want this to go, really. We can break this up before we get too invested in this… thing we have going on.”  
He kisses Harry’s cheek. “I’m going to the soup kitchen now, see you later.”, he says and leaves Harry alone in the flat. 

Niall is right, Harry thinks, he’ll be gone in a few months. His suitcase still lays open in his room. The blond doesn’t feel completely at home here. Harry doesn’t want him to leave, there isn’t much he knows about Niall and he wants to know it all. Wants to know Niall’s soul. And if being with Niall and Zayn at the same time is what it takes, then Harry is ready to give it all.  
He stares silently at the pancake batter. 

\- 

Harry invites Zayn over to stay the night. He buys popcorn and beer and even rents some films to watch. Doughnuts are left over, as well.  
“I think we need to clarify some… stuff.”, Harry tells him as soon as he enters the flat. “Niall said… he doesn’t care. About, uh. That we have to make a decision. It’s extremely… exhausting.”  
Zayn doesn’t say anything and just sighs, looking at Harry. 

“I’ve rented ‘The Avengers’.”, Harry says with a smile, trying to ease the tension between them. “If that’s okay.”  
“It’s, yeah, it’s okay. I like Marvel.”, Zayn nods and gives Harry his jacket, who puts it away. “Niall is so carefree with everything. He isn’t… he can’t be bound, can he?”, he grumbles. “Free love.”  
Now it’s Harry’s turn to stay quiet.  
He hums. 

“He’ll be gone. He’s going back to Ireland or wherever. We’re staying here.”, he says then, thoughtfully. “We could—“, he says, when he suddenly finds his back pressed against a wall. Zayn is crowding him; his elbows are on either side of Harry’s head.  
“We could what?”, he hisses, his breath ghosting across Harry’s cheek. “Keep fucking?”  
A knee rubs at Harry’s crotch, drawing a moan out of him. “Z-Zayn—“  
“I told you, I like you. Harry. I like you, but it’s not—I couldn’t be in a real relationship with you, I’m sorry.”, he slides his hands down Harry’s chest, sinking to his knees. 

“Do you… do you love him? Niall, I mean?”, Harry wonders as he watches the other lad pulling the zipper of his trousers down. “Do you?”  
“No. I don’t know. Maybe.”, Zayn says and breathes hot air against Harry’s dick in his boxers. “What about you?”  
“I think… I love him a little.”, Harry admits and leans into Zayn’s touch. “He’s just got something about him, I guess.”

“Something, yeah.”, Zayn repeats and finally pushes down all of Harry’s pants, cold air hits Harry’s cock and he curses. “Gonna suck you off now, yes?”  
“Fuck, yes, please.”, Harry grunts and runs his fingers through Zayn’s dark hair as Zayn wraps his pretty lips around the head of Harry’s dick. “God—“

“Harry? Zayn?”

Zayn pulls off Harry’s cock and licks his lips quickly, whipping around. “Niall?!”  
“Oh, sorry!”, the blond blushes. Harry tries to cover himself with his hands. He has a déjà-vu. “I wasn’t—I didn’t know that Zayn would come over, I—“  
He clears his throat. “I can go again, if you two want to—finish… or—“  
“No, wait. Shit.”, Harry grumbles and pulls his pants up. “We honestly have to talk. This is not—“  
“Yeah”, Zayn agrees with Harry, straightening his legs, “Let’s talk. Niall, do you like us both?”

Niall blinks and nods. “Yes, I—“

“But how much, Niall?”

“I like you a lot.”

“Equally?”, Harry wants to know.

“I think—god, I don’t know! I haven’t ever… I don’t know how this works, okay? I don’t know. I don’t know what you want. Hell, I don’t know what I want!”

“We need to figure this out, then!”

“Then tell me how! Tell me what to do!”, Niall raises his voice. He’s angry. 

“How do you want this relationship to go? Do you want both me and Harry?”, Zayn asks harshly, “Do you want to keep fucking us both? Or do you want just one of us, because I don’t know if I want to be in a… relationship of this sort, with two people at the same time!”

“I don’t.”, Harry whispers. “I can’t do this, it feels—“

“Wrong? Yeah.”, Zayn sighs. “I’m not into this either… I’m into serious relationships.”

“I fucked everything up, didn’t I?”, Niall says then in a small voice. “I’m sorry, guys. I don’t want to be a bother. I never intended to make you feel like shit, I’m not… I want everyone to be happy.”

They stay silent for a moment. 

“It’s probably really for the best if I leave and go back to Ireland.”, Niall mutters and slightly kicks the floor. There’s an unbearable tension in the flat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Niall, no, you don’t have to go. We just—we can fix this, I’m certain.”, but Niall just shakes his head. 

“I’m tired… I need to sleep… a night over this.”, he says quietly. The possibly worst thing he could’ve said. “Good night.”, he says and walks off to his room, closing the door gingerly. 

“Fuck”, Zayn groans. “Fucking fuck. That couldn’t’ve gone worse, I think.”

“Maybe.”, Harry huffs. He doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore. He’s angry. At himself, at Zayn, but mainly at Niall, he guesses. “Want to watch the film while we suck each other off?”  
“Sounds like a plan.”, Zayn hums and shrugs. They sit down on the couch and let the film play. Harry thinks about the marble in his pocket and smiles. 

-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. It seems quite unfinished, doesn't it? Don't worry... there will be more in the future. Leave comments if you want.  
> All the best for you, keep walking. 
> 
>  
> 
> (All mistakes are mine, not beta'd, I'm not a native English speaker, sorry.)


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